a breif lesson

last week i dropped a sentence in the couch and couldn't find it.

now there are fragments and run on sentences in the wall all scurrying about at night i can hear them. jabbering nonsense.

today i woke up bleeding.

when i spoke great streams of words came spilling forth

that night the words were silent in the walls

i felt them slithering through my veins

shifting under my skin

whispering comments facts nothing faces people places hysteria

retching tedious words on to paper

overcome delerious finding myslef clawing at the ground

the madness is blinding heinous words froth

spittle flys and words shatter great tree trunks

the forests of the world fall at my feet

voice gone and still screaming carving into flesh the werds leak out in great red running torrents

laying at last cold and dead on the ground

in the fall i lost a whole stanza while napping under a tree. this spring im going to look for it. scrutinize the ground for a cornor or a peice of words sentences buried in dirt and leaves.

keeping carful eyes wide straining for movment. whole peoms scurry from under roots and rocks. little violent short lived creatures hunting mice and nippiing at my fingers

by night fall great herds of words wandered empty streets

my poems killing indicrimenently butcher the towns people